Just A Story
by Tristripe
Summary: When he realizes something is wrong, Raphael must find out what went wrong, who made it wrong, and who decided not to tell him something was wrong.  Too bad no one has a straight answer.


_**A/N:**__ This here is my first attempt at a one-shot. It can stand alone (hence being a one-shot and all), but at the same time it DOES link into my fic "The King and the Clown"…eventually. Not now. Probably not for a while…maybe ::stares at notes::_

_Ugh, I'm pathetic._

_Also, somewhere along the way I got really drawn out with this story thing…you can read the end notes about it, but I will apologize for it from now. Hope it doesn't ruin anything…_

_Anyways, enjoy this boring little piece of drivel. _

_(little? Hah! This blasted thing is 16 pages long!!!)_

_**Disclaimer: **__I do not in any way, shape, or form own TMNT, or the characters. I do not, in any way, shape, or form own Junni Kokki (The Twelve Kingdoms). I'm just using them for my own sick pleasure. The only gain I'm getting from this is carpel tunnel syndrome and a very bad grade in my anatomy exam tomorrow._

_**Beta**__: Manga-chick_

_**Timeline: **__pre-series, the boys are thirteen_

_**Warning**__: K+, Raph curses mildly, and the fic turns morbid near the end._

* * *

**JUST A STORY**

Raphael knew he was not the most observant of turtles. Even at the all-knowing age of thirteen he was aware the cosmos had determined that he be the last to know of things. It was a conspiracy, he said adamantly to his older brother one evening; everyone seemed to purposely keep him out of the loop. If something was broken, none would bother to tell him until he turned on the shower and was blasted with ice cold water. If they were out of his favorite cereal, he wouldn't know until he opened the box. If something were wrong with one of his brothers, no one deemed it important enough to enlighten him.

Perhaps, Raphael reasoned to himself on occasion, that was why when he realized that something was amiss he set out to figure what went wrong, who made it go wrong, and who decided it was unimportant enough not to inform him that something was wrong.

"You're like a Spanish Inquisitor," his brother Donatello grouched one time while making a stab at him with a wrench.

Whatever that was, Raphael did not care. When he had to know something, he had to know something simple as that. 'I don't know' was not an answer he accepted, and would hold his brothers captive till he got what he wanted out of them -- either a confession of guilt, or the sweet voice of a tattle tale who had been cornered with no way to escape.

Occasionally, he found himself studying his brothers. Trying to figure out what went on their heads left him wondering for hours, even days. He remembered a time when he thought they were all the same. Like quadruplets that Donnie had once told him about. As the years passed by and he grew in body and mind he realized that they were not quadruplets, or twins or triplets or anything else of the like. Donatello even recently confided in him that he doubted they were even related by blood. He had gotten angry at this bit of unwanted information. Why was it unlikely they were real brothers? Why couldn't they be young and the same as before? It didn't matter that much did it?

Master Splinter called them his sons.

Master Splinter called them brothers.

Was blood truly that important?

Even though he didn't like it, Raphael could not quiet that traitorous voice in his head as he watched his brothers change along with him. He could see it then, how all of them were so vastly different, totally unique individuals that would never be like they had been as children.

Donatello's mind far surpassed all of them early on, leaving even Splinter baffled at how far his mind went, how much understanding a child could possess at such a young age.

Leonardo followed in Master Splinter's wake, emulating him, striving to become a leader and protector of the clan to replace their father when the time came.

Raphael craved strength to protect his family and challenge. He craved thrills and danger that often left him grounded for misadventures gone wrong.

Different. Totally and completely different. Their temperaments were different, their thought process and logic were different, their dreams and hopes were different. They grew and became aware of their surroundings, their situations, and their discontent. Aware that they were themselves and not the other.

They grew. That was the common thread. At least in that they were the same.

Except one.

Raphael was not sure how long he had been studying that particular brother. Watching him speak, watching him interact with the others, watching him sleep, wake, fight, and sit in front of the TV. The more he observed him, the more Raphael came to realize that there was something terribly wrong with what he was seeing, something that did not fit. As the days dragged on, he became more alarmed. His family went on like any other day, calmly accepting the anomaly as if nothing were wrong. Once again he had been left out of something very important.

Something that needed immediate answers.

It was an unwritten rule in the sewers: Always start with Master Splinter. His father would not dodge the question, would not lie or deceive him, and would tell him the truth as it was without a terrible run around.

…Except that one time Donatello questioned him about procreation…

Master Splinter was in his room tea when Raphael found him. He could tell that his father was a bit weary by the slight droop of his furry ears, and the twitch on the tip of his powerful tail.

…Something about Mikey begging him for three hours straight to watch television …

He fidgeted in impatience as Master Splinter poured him a cup of steaming tea. He sipped it politely as he had been taught, giving his father a chance to settle himself down before going right to the point:

"There's something wrong with Mikey."

Raphael remembered when he was seven he had been silently curious about the differences between his master and the common sewer rat. Upon catching one, he had held the creature before him and studied its features until the beast bit into his hand and escaped. Master Splinter had been furious with him, reminding Raphael of the numerous times he had warned him to not pick up the wild rats. They spread disease, the father lectured, they were not safe. It was then the young turtle concluded that Master Splinter, though too a rat, had the most kindest and expressive features that no creature on earth, whether the fleshy humans who lived topside, could compare with.

And those expressive features showed on his father's face and his brows knotted in worry at his words. "Michelangelo? Is he ill, my son?"

"He's gotta be, sensei!" Raphael leaned forward, fierce and determined. "Haven't you noticed? He's still acting like he's seven!"

His father's furred face when slack for a moment, then became puzzled. "My son, I am not following you. _Is _you're brother ill?"

"He's watching cartoons! And singing along with them!"

The master stared.

Frustrated, Raphael could not help but glare, "How long have you known that he was crazy?"

"Raphael," said Master Splinter in the patient tone Raphael was used to, shaking his head and pulling at his whispers, "Your brother is not ill at mind. He is simply developing differently than you and your brothers."

His father always sounded so wise and all knowing, and usually Raphael would be satisfied with the answers he got. This was not one of the cases, and it left him tense and moody.

"Fine," he snapped. "How long did it take you to realize that he was 'developing differently'?" He could not help throwing his father's words back in his face. He knew by the flattening of Master Splinter's ears that his father was displeased with his tone. There was no turning back, he had to get his answers.

There was a long silence, and Raphael began to fear that he would not get a reply when his father finally spoke gravely, "I have known that all of you were special from when I first found you as infants, my son. Each one of you is vastly unique. You're brother is no different."

"Sensei," Raphael deadpanned, "Mikey is singing…to a CARTOON!"

Master Splinter smiled, for what reason Raphael could not even begin to fathom, and chuckled, "Indeed, perhaps your brother is unique in his persistence for mischievousness."

Indeed…his father was wise, and all knowing…and seemingly not worried that his youngest son had not seemed to age in maturity like the rest of them.

Raphael chose to strategically withdraw, afraid that his anger would soon get the better of him and he would say something Master Splinter would surely make him regret.

Some days later, Raphael found himself approaching Donatello on the matter. Though not deceptive in any way, his intellectual brother seemed to forget that not everyone was on the same level as him. It was because of this he always hesitated going to Donnie; hating how inferior he felt to his docile brother, hating how Donnie had no clue how he made him feel. It made Raphael want to shake his brother vigorously by the shoulders whenever he was on the receiving end of one of those perplexed 'What? You didn't know?!' looks.

Like now.

"When didja figure it out?" he asked him, clenching his fists and repeatedly reminding himself: _Must – Not – Shake!_

Donatello was sitting cross-legged on the worn rug where their entertainment center was. He had the TV's innards surrounding him, his toolbox open, a flashlight to the side beside the television's now empty case.

…Something about Mikey complaining about the color being off or what not…

Using the flat end of the screwdriver he had been using, Donatello scratched at his head, frowning a bit. "Well," he said hesitantly, "I guess I always knew he wasn't acting like the rest of us. We always did treat him like the baby, and he was always sucking his thumb, and he couldn't sleep in the dark till, what? Last year?" His brother looked up at him then and must have seen displeasure on his face. "It's not like it was some big secret," his voice was defensive, almost as if he were insulted by the unspoken accusation. "He's just Mikey, Raph."

Unacceptable. Things couldn't be that simple.

They all have been spoiled brats when little. Donatello had sucked his thumb as well, but stopped the very first time Master Splinter had gently took it out of his mouth and lowered his little hand. They had all been scared of the dark, but had grown out of it quickly since their home _was_ the darkness.

What made Mikey any different from them? Why was he not changing and growing with the rest of them? There had to be something, _someone_ to blame!

"WHAT exactly is my fault?" Leonardo's exclamation was high pitched in shock and offense.

"You heard me," Raphael could not keep the growl from his voice. In the last two years his voice had been changing, getting deeper, rougher, more adult than the rest of his brothers, something he prided in. "Master Splinter is always saying that you're gonna be some great leader and all. So, 'Fearless Leader', it's gotta be your fault Mikey is all stupid in the head!"

He had found Leonardo in the dojo, where his eldest brother always practiced his katas, meditated with their father, and strived to be perfect just to get on Raph's nerves. This time, however, he was doing some arm stretches, one arm bent over his head while he grasped the elbow with his opposite hand and pulled.

…Something about straining a muscle while helping Donnie put the TV he fixed for Mikey back in its place…

Slowly relaxing his hold and switching arms, Leonardo sounded a bit miffed when he said, "First, Mikey isn't 'stupid in the head', Raph, and it's not my fault you think he is. Second, Master Splinter hasn't made me leader yet. And third, _how_ is it my fault Mikey is the way he is?!" His voice rose with the last question, the glare aimed at Raphael becoming more heated with every word, obviously irritated.

Good. Leo pissed was better than Leo being perfect.

Out of all of them, Leonardo had been the first one to give up his toys, the first to say there was no time to play, the first to refuse chocolate milk as a treat for a job well done. It burned Raphael to know that his eldest brother was the first to gain that maturity they all now strived for. The first to have their father look at with glowing pride at how much he developed and achieved. That was Leo, always striving to please.

"It's gotta be your fault!" Raphael was not going to let this go. "You can't become leader if you can't make him normal!"

"There's _nothing_ wrong with him!" his brother was exasperated now, arms down at his sides, fists clenched and quivering in anger.

Good. Raphael hated it when Leo was calm and passive.

"Then _you're_ stupid in the head! He must get it ALL from you, dearest big brother!"

Raphael's frustration was making him scornful. But that was okay, because Leo finally charged him, and they both ended on the dojo floor grappling each other.

It was fun to fight with Leo. His brother was strong and able, and when angry he could be just as mean with his punches as Raphael himself. He never had to worry about taking it easy, because Leo could take and give more when the mood struck. Since Master Splinter had started training them in martial arts, Leonardo had always been more adept to the teachings than him, but Raphael was always closely behind him, challenging his brother to get better because one day he would definitely catch up and show him who was boss.

Picking a fight with Donatello was no fun at all. That one was far too calculated with is attacks; every punch and every kick was simply one step towards a grand scheme that Raphael had no concept of until it was too late and he fell into the well constructed trap. When angry, Donatello went for the kill - not caring what and who he destroyed in the process of getting back at Raph. Nope, avoiding that particular brother's ire was a matter of self-preservation.

Mikey however….

Raphael heard the suppressed giggle first before suddenly there was a splash, and then he was wet, and cold, and very, VERY wet. He slowly raised his head, his bandana completely drenched and plastered to his shoulders, Leonardo pinned beneath him sneezed.

And there, right there, standing, giggling behind one hand, and holding a metal pail red-handed was non other than the Annoyance Extraordinaire.

**_"MIKEY!"_**

"Gee Raphie, look what I had to do," the little irritant was rocking back and forth on his feet, the pail swinging freely in his relaxed arm, his teeth gleaming from his sickeningly gigantic smile. "Master Splinter told me make sure you weren't fighting with Leo again, but seeing as you _were_, and Master Splinter did say to make sure you _weren't_ , I just had to give him and early Father's Day Gift and CURE the senseless violence!"

Leonardo slid from beneath him and stood, shaking his arms as he glared at the youngest of the brothers wearily. "I don't think dumping cold water on us counts as a 'cure', Michelangelo."

Raphael slowly stood as well, not bothering to wipe the water that was dripping into his eyes.

Michelangelo's grin became a tad bit wary as his eyes met him, even as he tried to justify his reasoning with Leo. "But water is pure, and now you two aren't fighting, and you won't fight anymore if you know ima dump water on you again…right? Leo? Dear, favorite, big brother of mine…"

Leonardo's silence at Mikey's pleading tone was all Raphael needed. With a ferocious snarl he lunged at his younger brother, who, with a terrified shriek, dropped the pail with a loud clatter and fled for his life.

No. Fighting Mikey was never fun. Never enjoyable. Never satisfying. Fighting him was like trying to grab a wet bar of soap in the shower, once you try to hold on it would slip away. Michelangelo was always dancing away from him, ducking, freaking flipping over him, using the furniture as a sort of gymnastic apparatus. Punching Mikey was like punching the wind, always swinging but never having the satisfaction of coming into contact with anything. Fighting Mikey was like fighting a nightmare, always mocking, smiling, laughing, making cruel fun, openhanded slaps on his shell and arms to hurl him aside every time he charged.

It was not fair. Mikey was like that with everything. Not like Leo. Not like Donnie. Always dancing on the edge of anyone's understanding no matter how many times he was on the receiving end of their father's walking stick, no matter how they all admonished him, changed around him, grew without him…

"Why…?"

They were standing in an empty tunnel far from the lair, facing each other, half of Mikey shrouded in the shadows that until recently frightened him at night. Raphael had not noticed they had left the safety of their home, had not noticed when he had stopped chasing his little brother, that he had given in to his frustration.

"Why d'ya gotta be like this? Why can'tcha be like the rest of us? Why don'tcha just grow up?!"

It was not FAIR.

He could see them, behind the mask; Mikey's eyes were blue, nothing like the rest of their dark brown eyes. They were large and rounded, and always, _always_ glittering with mischief and fun, and it was not fair.

Why did they have to grow up?

" 'Cause Raphie, I don't want to."

Raphael startled at this, gulping his breath at the admission, the first real truth since he had started his search.

Michelangelo snickered, turning slightly so he could see only his profile in the light. "You heard that Toys R Us commercial? I liked it, and you used to sing with me too, bro."

He was quiet for a moment, before telling him, "That was a long time ago, Mikey."

His brother scrunched up his snout a bit, his bottom lip jutting out in a petulant pout. "Yeah," he sighed, "That was sooooo long ago. You've gotten old, Raph. Gonna need a walking stick soon."

"We're the same age," he said sharply, tired of being teased, not wanting to have another run around with him, "you're not that much younger than the rest of us, so quit acting like it!"

Raphael saw it, right then as he said those words his brother went still; no movement, his childish expression frozen. Slowly a frown formed on his little brother's brow, and his eyes were facing straight, away from him, so far away when he asked in a soft voice, "Why does it have to be acting? Why can't it be real?"

" 'Cause it isn't!" Raphael snapped angrily. "You're just playing games!"

"Why does it have to be a game? It _isn't_." If possible, Raphael could almost hear a snarl there. Something harsh, something angry, something that he could not see, and something Mikey would never reveal.

He took a breath, not used to this part of his little brother, but refusing to back down. His answer was right there, he just had to be patient and wait for it. "Then what is it then?" he asked him sourly. "You've gotta have a reason."

In that his features relaxed and smoothed. Mikey turned to him, and there was a lightness there that had been absent before, an excited hopefulness that Raphael could not comprehend its origin. Taking a couple of steps forward, Michelangelo came out into the light fully, reaching his hands and grasping Raphael's arm. When he leaned forward eagerly, Raphael could not help but pull back, not trusting his tricky brother in the least.

"What?" he huffed, "Why you gotta be so close to me?"

"Hey, Raph," he could recognize a mile away that particular tone that Mikey adopted when he was going to go off on something wild. "You remember when we were little, Master Splinter would read to us stories in Japanese?"

_Patience_, he reminded himself, he had to be patient. "Yeah…sure. He found buncha Japanese books in the trash. So what?"

"You remember any of them?"

Raphael frowned, not understanding where this was going but still hopeful. "Nah. They put me to sleep. Donnie hated them, and Leo just wasn't that into them. He liked trying to read 'em cause of the language, though."

Michelangelo's shoulders sagged a bit at this and he scowled up at him. "See, that's why you're all so boring! You and Leo have no imagination, and Donnie is too busy being technical to enjoy a good story."

He rolled his eyes at this, and groaned, "They're just stories, Mikey. So what?"

His brother released his arm at that, crossing his arms across his plastron. "They _are _important," he told him stubbornly, "You're just too stupid to realize it."

Pot calling kettle black. Irony anyone?

"What's so important about some stupid story?"

Mikey glowered at him and snapped, "It's important, cause Seishu was important."

Raphael could only stare blankly at his brother.

The younger of the two stepped back even more, showing his disappointment which was a rarity. "Seishu, Raph. How can you forget about him? He was _important_."

"Man," groaned Raphael, rubbing the back of his head, "only to you maybe. Besides none of us liked the story so Master Splinter stopped reading it to us."

"Oh contraire, foolish brother of mine," laughed Mikey, "he stopped reading it to you guys, but he finished it with me!"

He looked at him balefully, not seeing the direction where this was going. "Is there a point to this?"

Michelangelo paused for a moment, almost hesitant…though Mikey rarely ever hesitated in anything except if it had something to do with scary dark places. Finally, with a small breath, he spoke, "You know, some hundred years ago there was this girl named Suzu in Japan. Her family was very poor so they sold her to some rich dude to be a maid in his house."

Raphael snorted, not too interested but waiting. Perhaps if he listened there would be some type of point.

His brother looked at him, and when satisfied that he wasn't going to be rudely interrupted, he continued. "On the way," he said, "they got caught in a storm, and Suzu fell into a river. When she came to she was surrounded by these weird sailor dudes who did not speak her language. She didn't think much of it at the time, but when they reached land, the sailors sold her to these traveling performers…who also did not speak her language. It was while she was traveling with them that she realized that she was in a totally different world and – "

"Ahhh come _on_, Mikey. This is _stupid_. You know I hate that fairy tale crap!"

"It isn't 'crap'!" Mikey said fiercely, "If you'd just shut up and _listen_ for a bit!"

"Fine," he huffed, crossing his arms and waving a hand for him to continue. "I'm shutting up. Go on with you merry little tale."

"Suzu," Michelangelo's voice shook a bit in anger, which was fine. Raph wasn't sure if he liked an angry Mikey, but at least it was less annoying than him being his normal self. "Traveled with the performers for three years, and that whole time she could not learn any of the language, she couldn't memorize any of the songs or skits, or do anything acrobatic. Real pathetic really, just like you Raphie."

"Hey! I'm listening, aren't I?"

His brother continued without a pause, "Then one day this immortal woman came to watch the performance, and Suzu was able to understand her. She begged the woman to take her away from the traveling performers, cause she could never be happy with people who did not understand her language. The woman agreed and then turned Suzu into an immortal as well…that way she could now understand the language as well."

"Great. Peachy. She was saved. Are you done yet, cause this is pointless."

"Actually, Raph. Suzu made a stupid mistake, cause this lady was real, real mean to her. Like evil step-mother mean. She called her names, made her do impossible and dangerous chores, and even hit her!"

It was the abuse that got Raphael's attention. Since when did silly little fairy tales have abuse in them? "Why didn't she just leave?" he asked in begrudging curiosity.

"She was scared," Michelangelo replied, "that if she left, the woman would take away her immortality. If she did, then Suzu would no longer be able to speak or understand the language again. Actually, it took her one hundred years to finally run away."

Raphael scowled at this. "That's stupid. I'd rather not understand what people are saying then to be pushed around like that." He was not interested. Not at all.

Michelangelo grinned a bit and continued; his voice more enthusiastic, "Suzu ran to the queen of the kingdom she was in, who was like a real sweet old grandma. She promised Suzu that she wouldn't lose her immortality on the condition that she leaves the kingdom and travel for some years. She said that Suzu was still immature, even though she was like over a hundred years old by then.

"Suzu didn't like that very much. She cried and whined and begged to stay, but the queen made her decision, gave her money and sent her off. Suzu then heard about a queen in another country who, like her, had come from another world. She decided that the only way she could be happy was if she was with that queen, so she set off to that other kingdom." He paused, looked at Raphael for a second. "She got on a ship that would take her to that kingdom, and it was on it that she met Seishu."

"FINALLY," interrupted Raphael. "Was wondering when you were gonna get to the point…." He frowned then, and muttered, "Can't even remember the point anyways…"

His brother rolled his eyes at him. "Seishu was this little kid, see. Suzu saw him trip and nearly fall off the ship while he was playing. She caught him, and got angry. Told him that he should be grateful that he was fortunate that she saved him. He was very lucky, she told him, cause other people didn't have any luck at all, like her. The second time she saw him it was the same thing…him nearly falling overboard. She told him the same thing and then asked him where his parents were.

"He didn't have any parents, he told her. They had died. Suzu then said that her parents were long dead too, but at least he had a home. Seishu explained that his home was destroyed in a giant storm, many people died, his home was gone and the land couldn't be lived on anymore." Michelangelo let out a small hallow laugh, "Suzu got mad at him, said that at least he got to be with his parents when they died. She would never even be able to visit her parent's graves.

"Seishu got real sad at this, saying that he didn't feel lucky at all that he saw his parents die. His mother died right before he got onto the ship. She was sick and they didn't have any money for medicine. His father on the other hand was killed by wild beasts on the way to the port. Seishu had seen his father get torn apart and eaten alive…"

Raphael felt a wave of nausea hit him. What kind of twisted fairy tale was this? He looked at his little brother, not liked the forlorn look on his usually animated face, the melancholy that should never exist in his bright eyes.

"Nah, Seishu didn't feel like he was lucky at all. But at least he wasn't feeling sorry for himself and crying and thinking he was the only one who suffered. Why did Suzu think she had it worse than anyone else? She was just being selfish, and pitying herself."

"Yea," Raph could not help but agree out load. "She was." He waited for a moment, and when Mikey did not go on, he prodded him in the arm, "You gonna finish this or not? I'm waiting for the happy ending."

Mikey jumped at his prompt, startled. He was not smiling at his older brother's attention. "The third time Suzu met him, she found that he was just sitting alone below the deck of the ship. There was something wrong, and even though he answered her when she spoke to him she realized something horrible…Seishu had become blind."

"What?!" Gasped Raphael.

"He had been having headaches for awhile, he told her, and getting dizzy. That was why he kept on nearly falling overboard. When the wild beasts attacked his father, Seishu had been scratched on the top of his head by one of the monster's claws. Since then he was always tired and stuff. Now he was blind." Mikey took a breath, "He started to cry, like a little kid. He was tired of being brave, cause he was scared and alone, and he was now sick and felt like he was going to die, just like his mom, just like his dad.

"But Suzu refused to give up. She was going to see a queen. Surely a queen would have excellent doctors! So when they reached land, Suzu took Seishu with her. She was going to protect him and make sure he wouldn't die. And Seishu was happy, he felt that he was real lucky for meeting her.

"On the way they stopped in a town, but by then he was real sick. He couldn't even walk on his own. Suzu got scared and left him leaning against a wall and told him to wait for her while she got the town doctor…" Mikey stopped, and gave Raphael at particular look. "You enjoying this?"

"No," Raph denied. "I'm just waiting for the end, is all."

"Well, I'm almost finished," Mikey told him helpfully.

"Good. You owe me big time for having me stand here and listen to this mumbo jumbo."

His brother shrugged his shoulders. "Seishu got worried after awhile, afraid that Suzu got herself into trouble and was crying about it. So he got up and tried to find her, even though he could not see. But he was too weak and fell on the road, and when he tried to get up he couldn't. People walked by him and did not bother to check on him, or even help him up. Just then this carriage came, and there was this real important dude in it. The driver stopped, cause Seishu was in the way, but –"

"There!" Raph laughed triumphantly. "The lord picks the kid up, gets the girl, heals him and they go to the queen and live happily every after!" He was a genius; of course the silly story would end that way! "Like I said before, just a—"

"—but the important guy had better things to do than let some stupid sick kid get in his way." Mikey's sharp voice snapped Raphael's mouth shut, and he gaped at his brother in horror as the story came to its conclusion. "The lord ordered to driver to go on, and the driver did just that. All the people around watched, and Suzu who was coming back saw the carriage run right over Seishu and crush him. No one bothered to help a sick little kid. Everyone had their own problems to deal with. And that way Seishu died, and Suzu learned her lesson that her suffering could never compare to that little boy. The end."

Michelangelo turned suddenly as if to bolt, but Raphael's hand snapped forward and grabbed his arm. "What the HELL kinda sick story was that!" he snarled, enraged. "No way Master Splinter would read to you that trash!"

"Yeah, well he did," Mikey insisted, trying to free his captured appendage, which Raph would have none of at the moment. "All of you guys were too bored and stuff to hear the rest of it. None of you cared, so it was just me and Sensei, so there! Now let go! I have a cartoon to watch"

When his wiggling little brother nearly slipped from his grip, Raphael brought his other hand foreword and took hold of his brother's shoulder, refusing to release him. They struggled like that for a couple of seconds, Mikey pulling away, and Raph pulling in; each one unwilling to give in. It was all just so ridiculous, stupid, and childish, just like Mikey. After all that, all that patience and waiting and bearing with it all, he was still so confused.

"It's just a stupid STORY!" He shouted, his voice echoing along the tunnels of the sewers. "It's not real, and it has no freaking point! Why didja waste my time and tell me it?!"

" 'Cause it's important!" Mikey shouted back.

"_Nothing_ about it was important!"

Suddenly his brother turned on him, lunging forward and pushing harshly with his open palms on his plastron. Raphael flew back and nearly fell, the breath knocked out of him. Gasping, he could only gape as his brother yelled at him.

"It IS important, 'cause Seishu was important! He was cool, and nice, and he wasn't a crybaby like Suzu was. He did his best, and kept on moving forward even though he was alone, even though he was going blind! I LIKED him! I want to be just like him!"

If it were possible, Raphael would have swallowed his tongue at this admission. For a moment he tried to imagine the kid Mikey was going on about, a little soft human looking thing, probably with big blue eyes just like Mikey, broken and bleeding in the middle a dirt road. His traitorous mind then replaced the human with his little brother, and he immediately felt bile rising up his throat at the image.

"Why would you," Raph asked softly, feeling ill.

His words seemed to calm his brother down, thankfully. Mikey sighed sadly, "I was real sad, cause I was so sure he would grow up and become something real amazing. He was real strong, Raphie," he was smiling wistfully at this. "Even though there was so much bad stuff happening to him, he was real strong. I want to be like that…no matter what happens I want to be able to smile and have fun and be me. I don't wanna be like Suzu and always cry about everything and think I'm the only who doesn't have a picture perfect life."

Oh.

There it was.

The reason for the whole elaborate tale.

The truth in Mikey's eyes why he was the way he was.

He couldn't help himself but snort. "So you gonna be just like this dead kid by watching cartoons?"

"Ima enjoy the things I like," Michelangelo emphasized. "If I like cartoons, so what if I'm thirteen or twenty or even one hundred? It makes me happy to drink chocolate milk, even though Leo tells me it's for kids. I like reading comic books even though Donnie says I should be reading them big novels now. I LIKE making fun of you cause you're so fun to tease. You know why?"

Raphael went along, "Why?"

And there, his brother's face split open into the widest, brightest, mikey-est smile ever. "Cause, I AM lucky! I've got my brothers and my father with me. I've got stuff that I love, I've got the sewers to play in, and Donnie to fix things, and you to get angry at me like the bull you are, and Leo to save me when you do. I'm alive, Raphie, so why do I have to act one way when it doesn't make me happy? Why do I have to grow up like you all are telling me to when I feel I'm the luckiest turtle alive? Why do I have to change to be an adult?"

He stopped, his eyes widening. "Raph! I was supposed to watch my afternoon cartoons! Now I'm gonna miss them cause of you!" He dashed past him, heading back to towards the lair, as if forgetting the important words that had passed between them.

Raphael felt a chill as his little brother passed him, and brought one hand over to grasp his arm to stop a shudder. "You really thing that kid is a hero?" he asked out loud, not turning to look but hearing Michelangelo stop.

"Of course he is," his brother said instantly.

The image would not go away, the small figure lying crushed in the dirt.

"You're hero ended up _dead_, Mikey."

He did not see his brother's expression at that. What did his eyes reveal, what did his posture say. Was he smiling? Was he frowning? Did he have tears in his eyes or were they dry? And hours later, days later, years later Raphael would always wonder what Michelangelo looked like when he admitted the truth of all truths:

"Everybody's story ends with death, Raph."

_**THE END**_

* * *

_**A/N: **__OMG it is finally FINISHED!!! This was a bugger to write, but I'm glad I did it. I just had to walk around in their skin a bit, get a feel, see what makes 'em tweak. I don't think I did a very good job at it, but ah well._

_First, I have to confess that this was supposed to be a cutesy little fic with Mikey and Raph interaction and bonding...but I've been reading Aubretia Lycania's trilogy lately, and my perception of the characters has greatly altered…so much that this fic sorta mutated into something I was not expecting._

_Second, the story Mikey is talking about is actually a Japanese fantasy novel series called Junni Kokki (The Twelve Kingdoms). I watched the anime adaptation of it some years ago, and it was really, really awesome. I was sucked in. The first volume of the series has recently been published in English, courtesy of Tokyopop._

_Since I watched the anime, and have only read one volume of the novels, I have not met Suzu and Seishu yet. I don't know which volume of the novels they show up in, or how they originally interacted with each other… all I know is what I saw in the anime. I did not include too much detail about what exactly went on between them, or who they came into contact with during their brief journey together. I tried to imagine what they were like in the novel, and even though I'm sure I fall short in many ways, I hope I got the main idea of Seishu and Suzu's ordeals. Also I kept in mind when choosing that Mikey is the teller, so some details he will not remember, or change to suite his little child-like memory of the story._

_Actually, Seishu was a real minor character in the anime…he only stuck around for about 3 episodes before he was killed. But when he died it was the first and only time I bawled my eyes out while watching that series. In the anime he was a cute kid, with freckles, large blue eyes, and orange hair…_

…_recognize him from somewhere else…? CGI Mikey only in human form????_

_Anyways, it was fun writing, and I DO hope you guys enjoyed reading it (though it is boring)._

_Ima shut up now._

_Tri_

Word Count: 6682


End file.
